Jesus Walks
by Delicate
Summary: God help me, 'cause the devil's trying to bring me down.' Modern Day AU. ErikChristine, ErikRoulette [OFC], ChristineRaoul. Plus, lots of Nadir.
1. Distinctive Style

Jesus Walks

**Summary: **AU. They are untouchable, impenetrable, enigmatic, and possess a certain flair for dramatics. They are _Les Renards_, and they are the most dangerous and effective criminal team in the world.

_Les Renards_

_The Boss_

**Erik**

Brilliant in almost every field imaginable, occassionally charming, more often then not held captive by his shockingly short temper, the elusive billionaire known only by his first name is the un-disputed and infamous mastermind behind _Les Renards._ Deformed since birth, he is never seen without his trademark white mask, which covers the entire left side of his face.

_The Pretty Face_

**Molly "Roulette" Banks**.

When her father, Ezekiel, a minor player in the New York crime scene, was murdered in front of her at the age of eleven, she became Erik's ward. Now twenty, and a budding photographer, Roulette is fiercely loyal, desperate for Erik's attention, and consistantly underestimated by her colleagues. Her nickname sparks from a comment made on her first job; _Having a conversation with her is like playing Russian Roulette._

_The Moral Techie_

**Nadir Khan**

A former Persian _daroga_, who knew Erik when he was a spy for the Persian government. Erik's one and only trusted confidante, and the voice of his often dormant conscience. Quietly mourns the loss of his assasinated wife, Rookheeya, and is constantly on the look out for information on his son, Reza, who escaped from Persia and vanished six years ago. Dotes on Roulette, and mediates the frequent arguments between her and Erik.

_The Outsider_

**Christine Daae**

An angelic voiced graduate student who hires _Les Renards_ to find her missing father, a controversial UN ambasador.

_The Villan(s)_

**Carlotta Guidicelle & Ubaldo Piangi**

Infamous Italian crime boss, Carlotta, and her sidekick husband, Ubaldo, want _Les Renards_ dead, and they'll stop at nothing to get their way.

_The Love Interest_

**Raoul de Chagney**

Christine's childhood sweetheart and a wealthy diplomat from a powerful family, who may or may not have something to do with the dissapearance of her father.

- - -

_the game? begins now_

"Khan, get up, you've got company."

The gaurd tapped impatiently on the cell bars and waited as the dark skinned man who'd been reclining comfortably in his cell to get to his feet. He was a strange duck, this Khan fellow, the gaurd thought, as he buzzed open the cell door and cuffed him. Supposedly, he was one of the most powerful men in the world-- responsible for some of the most dazzling and bewildering crimes of the century---and yet, he didn't seem like the kind of man who would recieve a speeding ticket, much less persue a life of crime. Quiet, polite, and with an almost courtly british-persian accent, the only request he'd made in his month long stay at the minimum security prison in New Haven was that he be allowed out into the courtyard at five different intervals during the day, so that he could pray.

All in all, Nadir Khan was an ideal prisoner.

"You're sister's a pretty gal." Remarked the gaurd as he trailed Khan down the hallway. "Doesn't look much like you though, does she?" He missed the faint smile that grazed the inmates lips at his observation. "No, you are quite right." He conceeded pleasently. They arrived at the visitors room, which was empty---not a rarity on a monday morning. Perched on one of the yellow plastic tables that would have looked more at home in a third grade classroom, was a strikingly beautiful young woman, her raven colored hair bobbed and sleek, giving her the appearance of a 20's flapper. She was dressed in a simple black t-shirt that probably cost more than the gaurd made in a year, a short, tight black mini-skirt that danced on the fine line between slutty and sexy, and the kind of high-heels that very few woman could walk in sucessfully. Big, expensive, Jackie-O sunglasses completed the ensemble. He wondered what kind of woman dressed like that to come to a prison. Either she was silly, or deliberately cruel.

The prisioner looked slightly amused at the sight, which the gaurd thought was odd. "Rhada, darling." The woman got to her feet, and smiled toothily. "Brother dear." She replied in the same quasi-british accent as her sibling. Nadir hugged her and kissed her cheek, and they took a seat at the table. The gaurd assumed his position, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible. He hated to intrude on a family reunion.

As soon as they took their seats, the Khan siblings switched from English to French, and began speaking rapidly and in falsely cheerful tones. The gaurd frowned. There was something about this situation that seemed more then a little..off to him. Their conversation was growing less and less polite---the woman, in particular, was becoming visibly agitated, and Khan seemed to be trying to calm her down. _"Roulette, pas maintainent. Je pense que ce ne pas le meuillure choix-" _He was saying in a low undertone, shooting the gaurd a wary look that alerted him to the fact that something was definitley wrong. She glowered at her brothers obvious rebuke; _"Est-que tu est rigole? C'est parfait, Nadir, donne-moi un peu de confiance, s'il vous plait. Je sais quoi je ferai." _She said in a reassuring tone, and got abruptly to her feet. "Pardonnez-moi," She said sweetly to the gaurd, and it was the last thing he would remember, for a second later he was little more than an unconcious pile on the ground. He hadn't even had the time (or the foresight) to call for backup on his walkie-talkie.

"Rhada" sighed and stooped down to pull the key ring from his belt loop. She tossed it to Nadir Khan, who caught it easily and carefully removed the cuffs from his wrists, rubbing at the places where his skin had been rubbed raw. "Such a waste. Those were some of my best moves." She remarked idly, the faux british accent replaced by her normal voice, a languid southern drawl, and yanked on her dark hair, pulling off the wig and shaking her long dark blonde hair free. Nadir rolled his eyes. "Your _best _ moves, Roulette? Really. You dissapoint me. I was expecting something infinitely more interesting."

His female companion scowled and stalked towards the door. "Yeah, well, I was working on a tight schedule." She said grumpily. He shook his head and followed her footsteps, "I assume you have a plan?" Roulette checked her watch impatiently and cracked her gum, "Yeah, yeah, yeah." She muttured. "The way you and Erik talk, you'd think I was some kind of colossal screw up."

"Of course not. What could have possibly given me that idea?" He asked, his sarcasm plain. Roulette sneered at the jibe. "Oh, ha-ha. One month in prison and you're a stand-up comedian. I feel _so_ fortunate."

"Where are--" He began, but Roulette, who'se gaze had not left her watch, held up a hand to quiet him. "Shush. We walk out of here in one, two, three, aaaand--" as if on cue, the lights went out, plunging them into the dark. He heard Roulette's triumphant laugh. "--BINGO. I _told_ Erik that would work." She mumbled, and he felt her hand close around his wrist a second later, dragging him sideways.

"Roulette--" He began, but his partner cut him off. "Calm down, Nadir. I've got this one under control." Nadir couldn't help it; at the familiar exultation, he smiled, even if he knew it wasn't true.

--

Twenty minutes and one hi-jacked vehicle later, they were speeding down a bumpy country road, and Roulette was grumbling to herself, trying to stifle her bleeding nose.

"And you thought of that plan all by yourself, did you?" Teased Nadir, which earned him another scowl from the drivers side of the car. "You know what? It's not _my_ fault that you got stuck in some crap little jail in South Bumfuck, USA, Nadir. It's also not my fault that _someone_-" The evil look in her eye made it very clear that Someone was going to get an earful from her the next time she saw him, "-gave me faulty information about the electrical layout of that place, and that-" Nadir leaned back in his seat and let her rant for a few minutes.

He waited until she fell silent, finally stopping to catch her breath before he spoke again. "Still, I thought that was a very classy move, headbutting the gaurd like that. And then, of course, jumping out the window when we were cornered was pretty inventive. Did I mention the generator kicking in after that thirty second blackout?" Roulette's scowl deepened. "Only about six times."

There was a brief pause, "But I did get us out." She pointed out unnecessarily, her tone sulky. Nadir nodded. "That you did. If it's one thing I have complete confidence in, it is your ability to improvise your way out of any situation," Roulette smiled triumphantly. "no matter _how_ badly you manage to screw things up." He added, and she giggled. She knew it was true. She was a walking disaster when it came to planning and executing escapes, but she was a competent walking disaster, and she always managed.

"Sorry it took so long." Nadir shut his eyes and tried to make himself comfortable. Roulette was driving like the devil was chasing them, but even with her...creative driving skills, it was still going to be a long, if colorful, drive to the airport. "But you seriously would not _believe_ how long it took to get you a new passport---it's tough finding someone to make them for us that the feds don't know about anymore. I keep telling Erik we should just put someone on the payroll that can do it for us so we don't have to go through all the red-tape, but of course he never actually _listens_ to what I say anymore--" She trailed off, shaking her head. It was an old argument, with a hurt that went deeper than Roulette would ever admit.

"And, of course, Erik didn't have much of a moral delimma with letting me cool my heels in prison for a bit, did he?" Roulette set her jaw and said nothing. Nadir opened his eyes and looked at her squarely. "How angry is he?"

"He's Erik. He's _always_ angry about something." She responded evasively, and when Nadir didn't look away she relented. "He's not that upset. Not anymore, anyway." She added honestly and Nadir sighed. "I had hoped that my taking the fall for him would take the edge off of most of his anger." Roulette looked sorrowful. "It did. I still can't you believe you did that for him--for both of us." There was an edge, a tremor in his voice that instantly made Nadir remember why exactly he'd missed Roulette so much during the past month. She was, in many respects, still a child, and sometimes he could look at her and see the little girl she must have been once, before her father's death had robbed her of her chance at innocence.

"If one of us has to go down, I would prefer for it to be me." Nadir said quietly, and Roulette grinned raggedly at him, blinking back the emotion from her eyes. She reached across the console and gripped his hand tightly. "I've missed you, Nadir. There's been no one around to tell me my skirts are too short." He laughed and she released his hand, reaching over to fiddle with the radio.

"Where _is_ Erik?" He had to admit, he was surprised that Erik had left Roulette up to her own devices on this one--usually, he was more wary of her magnet like attraction towarsd destruction. "Amsterdam." She replied after a moment, settling on a Top Forty Countdown and checking her still bleeding nose in the rear-view mirror. "Damn, I hope this isn't broken." She muttered, making a sharp left onto the main road.

"Whats in Amsterdam?" He asked curiously, and Roulette rolled her eyes. "Some big party, for that one charity Erik always donates money to. I think they're giving him an award. Or something." She added vaguely, gunning the accelerator and cutting off a beat-up looking pick-up truck smoothly. The pick-up truck honked it's irritation, which made Roulette smirk.

Nadir rolled his eyes. "Your attention to details is remarkable, Rue." He made no remark of her pleasure at being reckless, which seemed to have grown since the last time he'd seen her and which worried him greatly. Roulette sighed and merged seamlessly into traffic---thankfully, without any incident.

"Whatever. Erik said it was a good idea to get you out of the states for a while. You know--for things to cool down." Nadir nodded, and a sudden cloud descended on the cloud. The unspoken dilemma that had almost exposed _Les Renards_ and ruined everything they'd worked for looming heavily between them.

"Roulette-" He began, but Roulette cut him off. "She's dead." She informed him flatly, guessing what his question would be. He could see she was forcing her voice to remain devoid of any emotion. He was surprised this news didn't hurt more. "I figured as much. How?" The revelation that Nadir's girlfriend, Bianca, a woman they had befriended and trusted, a woman that Nadir had been in love with, and that Roulette had considered a friend, had sold them out to the Gudicelle's had been a severe blow. Not nearly as severe as when the Gudicelle's, infuriated with the fact that _Les Renards_ had escaped (again) from right under their noses, took what information Bianca had given them to the FBI. Erik and Roulette had been all set to run, but Nadir knew that if they ran, they would never be able to out-run their notoriety--it was easier if one of them took the blame for the whole deal. And as it had been his inability to spot Bianca's treacherous personality that had brought them here, he'd had no problem taking responsibility for the (numerous) crimes they were charged with.

It took longer for Roulette to respond this time, and now she was visibly biting back her rage. "Not by me---but only because her own team beat me to it." She said agressively, making it plain that she would have had no problem with killing her former friend. "The bitch had served her purpose, I guess, and she hadn't exactly done what was expected of her so--" She shrugged, and shook her head. She caught sight of Nadir's tortured expression and her tone softened instantly. "Nadir..this isn't your fault. She fooled all of us." He nodded, "I know." He said quietly, and Roulette glanced over at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, Nadir. Look--we won't talk about it anymore, OK?"

"It's all right, Rue. I'm fine."

He had noticed it had started to rain until Roulette flipped on the windshield wipers. "I guess this just proves what we've said all along," She said carefully. "Which is..what?"

She glaned over at him and smiled. "That we---the _three_ of us---are a team, and we don't need any additions. It only fucks things up."

He chuckled. "Which implies that things weren't fucked up to begin with." Roulette shook her head and smiled. "Oh! I should call Erik." She picked up the cell phone resting in the center console and flipped it open. Nadir sighed. "He hates when you do that."

The younger girl wiggled her eyebrows mischeviously. "Of course he does, why do you think I _do_ it?"

"Remember the talk we had about you being an _antagonist_, Rue?" He warned, and Roulette clucked her tounge irritably at his lecture. "It's just a precaution." She said mildly, and Nadir frowned. "A precaution?"

Roulette's eyes softened imperceptibly. "I just...don't want him to forget about me." Nadir couldn't think of a response to that, so he simply sat in silence while Roulette waited for Erik to pick up. "_Damnitt_, he sent me to his voicemail. He does that just to bother me, you know." She trailed off, grumbling under her breath, and punched in the four digit code to Erik's voicemail box that was required if you wanted to leave him a message.

"Hi, Erik. It's Rue. The plan got a little screwed up---and, uh, Nadir's back in prison and I'm being sent to Attica. This was my one phone call, so please call a good lawyer! OK, thanks! Bye!"

She hung up, looking slightly more cheery, and tried to look innocent in the face of Nadir's expression. "He's going to have a coronary when he hears that." Nadir warned. Roulette looked blissed out at the thought.

"Should make for an interesting reunion, don't you think?"

"Everything you do makes for interesting consequences."

She smiled impishly at him for a second, before a BMW pulled out abruptly in front of her, and she nearly ran into his tail end, thus forcing her to lay on her horn for a good thirty seconds, and give the driver the finger. Nadir chuckled to himself. Escape attempts, stupid wigs, and biting sarcasm aside, it took a near head on collision on the freeway for him to realize just how much he'd missed this stupid, dangerous, beautiful criminal life of his.

-

Not now, Roulette. I just don't think this is the best plan--

Are you crazy, Nadir? It's PERFECT. Have a little confidence in me, please? I know what I'm doing.

(yay for my french-ie skills!)

And so ends the first chapter of what is slowly becoming my baby. Seriously. This story is very near and dear to my heart for many reasons. Mainly because I just think the plot-line is cool.

Just to answer the question I'm sure I will recieve; _Is Roulette a Mary-Sue_? Well, yes. I suppose so. But hopefully, she's a well-written, well-developed Mary-Sue, whom you will all grow to love and care about and occasionally want to throttle, just like you would any other character. This is my HOPE.

Don't worry---Erik will be in the next chapter. I promise. Christine will come a little later on.

I'm not making any promises about when I'll update---I' m very busy with college applications and not failing AP French Lit. right now, so cut me some slack, please?

I welcome any ideas, comments, criticisms, etc. Love my story? Hate my story? Let me know. I'd love to hear from you. Yes, I am pimping for feedback. Why? Because I HAVE NO SHAME, yey.

:o)

_Preview for the next Chapter._

Nadir and Roulette meet up with Erik at their hotel in Amsterdam. Erik and Roulette bicker childishly, then they go to a very fancy benefit, where Roulette proceeds to get very drunk, and argues (loudly and drunkenly) with her ex-boyfriend. Erik tries to secretly push him off a building. Roulette and Erik bicker some more, and Roulette complains that he "still thinks I'm eleven year old girl trapped in a ten year old boys body." In case you were wondering; no, he doesn't.

Nadir mediates and tries not to have a nervous breakdown and keep them from getting arrested. He also preuses their latest clientele. One person in particular, a girl named Christine Daae, seems to pique Erik's interest...

DUN DUN DUN.

Erik: You're flair for melodrama is so passe.

Authoress: Hey, you have to be nice to me! I'M THE AUTHOR.

Erik: Cheah. Whatever.

Raoul: I RESPECT YOU.

Authoress: Hon, it doesn't matter. I still think you're a goob.

Nadir: is slightly hurt Oh..

Authoress: Anyway. Review, please! 3


	2. Springtime With Hitler

A/N: Yes, there are references to _Lost_ in this chapter. Why? Because combining two fandoms into one chapter amuses me. So there. Anyway, I hope everyone is enjoying it. The title for every chapter is going to be either a song title from a musical, or based off something in a musical---because it's POTO, bitches, moozack is what it's all about. If you have any comments--

**Nadir**: _I_ have a comment.

**Delicate**: O..k..what is it, Daroga Honey?

**Nadir**: Where do you get off saying that you visualize me as that dude from _Lost_--Naveen Whats-his-face?

**Delicate**: You have a problem with me saying you look like Naveen Andrews?

**Nadir**: Well..yes.

_Delicate_: But... why? Naveen Andrews is HOT!

_Nadir_: Well MAYBE I WANT TO BE SEEN MORE AS AN OBJECT OF LUST, OK?

**Delicate**: Uh, whoa. Nadir? Why are you going all Whitney Houston on me here?

**Erik**: Nadir has a little phobia of fangirls.

**Nadir**: Excuse me, but I've seen what happened to you. My nerves can't take that kind of over-exposure.

**Roulette**: And, plus, he doesn't like sharing the spotlight with me.

**Nadir**: (scowls at Roulette) You don't count. You aren't a _real_ character.

**Roulette**: ...am I going to have to choke a bitch?

**Delicate**: That is enough. You two are..on..._time-out._ That means no "Desperate Houswives" For you tonight, Nadir. And Roulette? No "Grey's Anatomy."

**Nadir**: You're joking. Surely.

**Roulette**: Somehow I think not. She has that Omnipotent Authoress Look Of Crazy in her eyes. Again.

**Erik**: Oh, yay.

**Nadir**: (wanders off, grumbling) WE'LL DISCUSS THIS LATER.

**Delicate**: (sigh) Roulette, please go keep him away from the sharp objects.

**Roulette**: Whatever you say, Bosslady.

**Delicate **(eyes Erik suspicously): You're uncharacteristically silent this evening, aren't you?

**Erik**: Well, since I haven't actually been featured in the story, I technichally don't have anything to complain about. Yet.

**Delicate**: Your confidence overwhelms me.

**Erik**: But by the end of the chapter, I'll try to have a list of critisicms prepared for you.

**Delicate**: I'll look forward to it. Now go find a song with appropriate lyrics for this chapter, will you please?

**Erik:** Mademoiselle. (sweeps a bow and dissapears)

**Delicate**: (sigh) I love when he does that.

Roulette: Oh, stop. You're drooling.

**Delicate**: Er..on with the story.

- - -

**Berry Scary:** Thank you for your review! I'm glad that you're giving this story a try---honestly, I'm usually not a big AU fan either, so this is something completely new for me. I am, definitley, going to incorporate things from the original plotlines; i.e. Leroux, Kay, ALW, etc. into this story..but there will be some changes made. But hopefully it will work. I have it all formed in my head, we just have to see how it translates onto paper, I guess. I'm also going to try and develop the characters in such a way that they'll be familiar, even if they're in totally different settings. Er...does that make any sense? I'm just thrilled that you labeled my story as "badass". HEE.

And yes, the title is based off of the Kanye West song. Becuase it ROCKS MY DAMN SOCKS. And also because I got the idea for this fic. while watching the "Jarhead" preview, and that song was playing in the background. I know, strange, right? Heh. Thanks for your review, and I hope you like this chapter!

**SimplyElymas:** Aww. Goodness. Thank you. Nadir is adorable, and Iloveee writing his character. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you enjoyed the first one!

- - - -

**Springtime and Hitler**

_Too low to find my way_

After one to many thursday evenings spent watching _Lost_, Roulette had developed a fear of flying rather late in life. Which meant that five minutes into their twenty hour flight to Amsterdam, she'd knocked back a couple of sleeping pills, clapped on her headphones, and promptly put her seat back and passed out. Nadir was relieved, it seemed that the only time Roulette was quiet was when she was unconcious. He knew her stream of nervous chatter stemmed from the fact that she hadn't seen him in over a month, and was her way of finding their common ground again. He didn't mind it, he just needed an occasional reprieve from it.

For him, he was just glad he'd made it onto the plane without being detected. Thankfully, the faux passport Roulette had acquired was perfect, and no one had even seemed the slightest bit suspicious. He shifted uncomfortably in his roomy first-class seat. Roulette had brought only one outfit for him to change into; an immaculately tailored Hugo Boss suit that probably cost more than their plane tickets---and belonged to Erik. Which meant it was too tight, and miles too long for Nadir, and gave the appearance that he was melting. Roulette had apologized profusely, but he'd caught the mischevious look in her eye, and was fairly certain she'd snapped a picture of him on her cell phone, presumably to be used as blackmail at a later date.

He sighed and looked over at the girl sleeping soundly (so soundly he was tempted to make sure she was still breathing) beside of him, and smiled.

She looked deceptively safe when she was sleeping.

Yawning, Nadir pulled out the copy of _The Financial Times_ he'd bought before they'd boarded the plane, and smiled. It should have bothered him, this ease with which he slipped back into his former life as a criminal. He'd spent much of his time in prison pondering what his course of action would be upon his release, or, in this case, his escape. He had been a law abiding, moral man once. A policeman, who had believed in the things he stood for with all of his heart.

But this, he realized, had been before the government he'd worked for had killed his wife, and forced him to let his son vanish. Before he'd seen a masked genius driven to the very edge of his sanity, all for the amusement of a sadistic queen. He had been a believer once, in his country, in his life, but it hadn't done him much good.

The life of a criminal was not an ideal one for a man like him, who was more ideally suited for something quiet and low in stress, but it was the one the Fates had given him.

He would not turn his back on it now.

_Too high to wonder why_

_- - -_

_I've touched this place before_

The effect Roulette had on people never ceased to amaze him.

So severely jet lagged she could barely walk, with her eye make-up smudged in such a way that it more closely resembled war paint, and strutting around in her standard airport attire; gym shorts, flip-flops, and an oversize hooded sweatshirt from her high school lacrosse days, she still managed to stop traffic. It was almost comical, the way men gawked at her, the way impeccably dressed, beautiful women would stop to glare at her as if she was encroaching on their territory.

Roulette, oblivious and exhausted, ignored them all, her lazily gracefull, loping walk never hesitant as she strolled towards the the taxi stand, letting Nadir handle their baggage, which, admittedly, there wasn't much of, just one big duffle bag for the two of them. In their line of work they'd learned to travel light. Whatever they didn't pack, they could buy when they arrived at their destination.

Another perk of traveling with Roulette, Nadir mused as he hurried after her, was that they never had trouble finding a taxi.

"I hate this place." Remarked Roulette, slumping low in the cracked leather seat of the taxi and scowling out the window at the scenery that whizzed past them. He knew what she meant. Amsterdam was a beautiful city, but it was so heavily steeped in sin and debauchery that it was hard to escape from it unscathed. Someone like Roulette, used to being lawless, was at odds with this city, where _everyone_ was lawless. In this city, she was always on pins and needles, on unsure footing. Because if Roulette wasn't the outlaw, then who was she?

"We'll only be here a few days." He assured her, though he had no idea how long Erik was planning on staying. Erik didn't mind the city as much as Roulette did. There were no questions asked in Amsterdam, no curious looks, no hateful speculation shouted at him----in this city, everyone had a secret.

Everyone wore a mask.

_somewhere in another time_

- - -

_now i can hear the sun_

_the clouds drifting through the blinds_

The Amsterdam Ritz Carlton was one of the most luxurious hotels in the civilized world. They had also managed to lose Roulette and Nadir's reservations. There had been a brief struggle, when the concierge had flatly refused to give them the number of Erik's room---_'Herr Erik has specifically requested that he not be disturbed!'_---debunked only when Roulette, ever subtle, leaned across the desk and caught the short little man by the lapels of his jacket, "Listen, _mien herr_," She'd growled, her green eyes taking on that all too familiar predatorial gleam, "we've had kind of a long day. It would _really_ be appreciated if you just _gave us the fucking room number._ Ja?"

Five minutes later, they were in the elevators, with the promise of two suites (no charge, natch) by tomarrow morning, and free mini-bar privleges. _Damn_ but Nadir loved traveling with Roulette.

They arrived outside Erik's suite---the _presendential _suite, of course--and Roulette exchanged a glance with Nadir as she knocked. "You ready?" She asked. He shrugged. "It can't be any worse than prison, right?"

"You were in a minimum security prison, so yes, it could be." She replied, her tone serious. The door remained shut, and Roulette scowled and pounded on the door with her fist. "Errrrrrik." She whined, and Nadir could practically see Erik cringing on the other side of the door.

The lock clicked, but when they pushed open the door, the spacious, elegant room was empty. Roulette seemed upreturbed by this. "Lucy, we're home!" She sang gaily, and spotted a pristine, untouched fruit basket dumped carelessly on a coffee table, beside an unopened bottle of _Evian,_ and practically dove on it. "I slept through the in-flight meal." She explained, mouth full, when she caught sight of Nadir's shocked expression.

Nadir set their bag down beside the door, and collapsed next to Roulette on the couch. "I want to sleep." He muttered, burrying his head in a cushion, and Roulette snorted. "Fat chance, honey. We have a par-tay to get ready for." She glanced around the empty room and frowned.

"Erik?"

No response. She sighed. "Oh, fine. If you're going to be a _twat_ about that stupid voice mail I left you-" She began in an irritated tone, the rest of her rant swiftly cut off when Erik emerged from the bathroom, looking impeccable and furious.

"I have _told you_" He began, his voice deadly, rebervating around the room like thunder, "that you're practical _jokes_ are not amusing to me, Roulette."

Roulette sat up, and smiled impishly at the masked man who fairly towered over her. Any other man would have forgiven her in a heartbeat. Erik's demeanor did not change. "And that, Erik _darling_, is because you have no sense of humour. Nice tie, by the way." She added, taking a bite of apple, and Nadir was sure he was the only one in the room who noticed the adoring look in her big, movie star eyes as they wandered over Erik's lanky, almost skeletal frame.

"I suppose there is a good reason for the two of you invading my rooms like this?" Erik rumbled, nodding at Nadir in welcome and flatly ignoring Roulette's response as he walked past them towards the closet to retrieve his coat. Roulette sighed. "Oh, yeah, it's a great story, apparantly-"

"Roulette, as difficult as I know it must be for you to do so, please _shut up_ for a few minutes and let Nadir do the talking. He is infinitley less grating on my nerves. We're leaving in twenty minutes," He added, not noticing the kicked dog expression his words had left on the younger girls face. "so I suggest you get ready."

Without another word, Roulette got to her feet, grabbed the duffle bag and stalked into the bathroom, slamming the door so loud it shook the room. Nadir jumped at the loud sound, his frazzled nerves already stretched to the absoulte breaking point, but Erik didn't even flinch, merely looked exasperated.

"It's good to see you, Nadir." He said stiffly, as always, unsure when it came to expressing an emotion that wasn't black rage or irritation at Roulette. Nadir smiled at his friend and got slowly to his feet. "The hotel has lost our reservations, I'm afraid. But Roulette---ah, persuaded them to give us your room number." Erik shook his head. "Wonderful." He muttured, clearly not thrilled with the idea of sharing a room. For as much as Roulette rambled about the three of them being a _team_, Erik never ceased to be annoyed with the two of them---Roulette more than Nadir. Nadir knew it was mainly because Erik was unused to responsibilities; he'd spent so much of his life alone, with no one to answer to, that even after nine years, he still had difficulty adapting to the fact that he had two people relying on him, and that he, subsequently, and however minorly, relied on as well. Though he would never admit it.

"How was prison?" Erik questioned, the hint of a smile quirking the visibile side of his mouth. Nadir pulled on his rumpled suit collar, looking distinctly uncomfortable. "You two keep asking me that. It was prison. it was..._monotonous._ How else would it be? It wasn't like I was at bloody summer camp, Erik."

Erik scoffed. "It was _minimum security_, Nadir. There are probably Girl Scout camps in existance with tougher regimes." The persian scowled. "When was the last time either of you were in prison, may I ask?" Erik chuckled and took Nadir's vacated seat on the couch, draping his long frame across it elegantly, with all the feline grace of a jungle cat.

"Ah, well. At least now you have some street credit." Erik pointed out, and Nadir laughed. Erik checked his watch and sighed. "Roulette, _five minutes. _If you aren't ready, I swear to God we'll leave without you_."_ He barked. There was no response, but Nadir could tell from the muffled grumbling that escaped from behind the door that she was not well pleased. "How did everything go? Any of the colossal mistakes we've come to expect from anything Roulette does?" Erik wondered idly, only half joking. Nadir hesitated for a second---thinking back to the botched escape Roulette had planned so painstakingly. Honestly, it wasn't her fault everything had gone so perfectly, predictably wrong. And it hadn't been _that _bad...really. They'd gotten away, after all, hadn't they?

"It was fine." Nadir said, lying through his teeth. Erik arched an eyebrow at him. "Hmm." He said non-commitally, clearly not believing him.

The bathroom door opened, and Roulette sashayed out in a flurry of purple silk, and did a little piroutte for their benefit. "Ta-da." She said, bad mood dissapating, as it always did when she was primping for an evening out. Nadir smiled indulgently, the way a father might--torn between dissaproval at how low-cut/tight/revealing his daughters dress was, and pride at how lovely she looked.

"Very nice, Rue." He said and Roulette beamed at him, before turning expectant eyes on Erik. Nadir winced. Erik was staring at Roulette silently, an unreadable expression coloring his eyes. Roulette's smile slowly faded. "You think it's crap." She said, her voice uncharacteristically small.

Her words seem to jar Erik back to reality. "Not just crap," He replied in a faintly ironic tone. "but crap that cost me two thousand dollars."

Instead of looking hurt, Roulette simply looked pissed. "Jesus, what is your _problem_ tonight?" She snapped, grabbing her purse off the bedside table and stalking towards the door. Erik remained seated on the couch for a second longer, and Nadir caught a flash of remorse cross his features briefly before he got to his feet and motioned for Nadir to follow him.

"Come on, daroga. We don't want to be late----you know how much I love parties."

_a half a million thoughts_

_are flowing through my mind_

_- - - _

_a satellite recalled your voice_

_sent me round the world again_

The party was too predictable for Roulette's taste.

It was the same party she could have attended in any other glitz obsessed city in the world; same boring, rich people. Same pretentious cause giving a bunch of losers the chance to act like they actually gave a damn about something other than themselves and mug for the cameras. Usually, she wouldn't have minded---usually, she would have fit right in. But lately, as her fights with Erik became more and more frequent, and were less and less easily resolved, she found herself growing disenchanted with the privledged society parties she'd grown up around.

She looked around the elegantly decorated room, easily picking out Nadir, who was surrounded by a band of over-eager females, and couldn't resist giggling. Even in his ill-fitting suit, with fatigue marking his eyes, women could simply not stay away from the quietly charming persian. It never ceased to amuse her. She made a mental note to tease him about it later.

Erik was just as easy to pick out, standing by himself on the very fringes of the party, looking tense and ready to bolt for the door. She sighed, feeling a familiar, protective tug at her heart and snagged two glasses of champagne off of a passing waiter's tray and headed over to him, ready to bury the proverbial hatchet for the evening.

"Need a drink?" She asked casually. Erik glanced over at her and accepted the glass greatfully. "You haven't poisoned it, have you?" He questioned, his tone hovering between teasing and cautious. Roulette smiled. "No, I have not. Not that you wouldn't deserve it." She added sharply, and sensed him tense up. "It wouldn't hurt you to be a bit nicer to me sometimes, Erik." She pointed out, leaning against a pillar and rubbing at her aching feet. For shoes this expensive, you would think they would be a bit more comfortable.

She glanced up when she realized that Erik was watching her carefully, his expression weary. Her heartbeat quickened, and Erik smiled vaguely reaching out with long, tapered, infinitley graceful fingers to hover next to her cheek, as if to brush back a stray strand of hair, before he looked away, and let his hand drop back down to his side. Roulette bit her lip and turned her face downward.

"You're right. And..it is a nice dress." He admitted after a moment, albeit grudgingly. Roulette's eyes brightened and she did an impromptu spin for him. "You like it?" Erik's smile was indulgent. "Very pretty, and ..sparkly. Although it is a bit skimpy." He looked away quickly, as if he was embarrassed to have made such an observation. Roulette grinned. "That's the point, silly." She said happily, punching his shoulder gently, regretting it almost instantly when Erik practically lept away from her.

They stared at each other warily for a moment, before the strains of the band on stage seemed to perk Roulette back up. "Would you like to dance?" She asked, trying to quash the hopeful tone from her voice. "I..suppose." He mumbled, failing to notice the brilliant smile that illuminated Roulette's face at his reluctant aquiescence.

"Fab." Roulette said, and Erik chuckled at the endearing sound of British slang in her lazy southern belle accent. She grabbed impulsively for Erik's hand, and they locked gazes for a minute. For the first time in recent memory, Erik didn't cringe away from her touch. Roulette flushed, and glanced down shyly, peering up at him from underneath the fringe of her eyelashes. Suddenly, Erik's eyes hardened, his demeanor changing completely. His good mood had inexplicably vanished as suddenly as it had reemerged, and he was glaring death at a point beyond Roulette's shoulder.

Confused, Roulette turned to find the cause of Erik's rage-filled expression and felt her blood turn to ice. "Shit." She hissed. Erik yanked his hand out of her grasp and stalked past her. "Stay here."

"Erik---wait." She said desperately, grabbing him by the forearm. _Shit, shit, **shit.**_ The last thing they needed right now was for Erik to hurl some goober out of the window. "Let me handle this." She pleaded softly. Erik sneered at her, and shook his head in disbelief. "Incredible. You're so _weak_, Roulette." The venom in his tone was like a kick to the solar plexus, and it took a moment for Roulette to force any believable display of anger into her voice. Because, truthfully, she wasn't angry; she was hurt.

"I'm trying to _diffuse_ a potentially threatening situation that has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me. I'm being responsible, Erik. How does that make me weak, exactly?"

Instead of responding, Erik simply turned and stormed off towards the doors. Roulette felt like screaming. She hated when he did that---just walked away, with no inclination to respond, as if he simply had just deemed his opponant (her) unworthy of any more of his time.

"Hey, Rue." Said a deep voice from directly behind her. Roulette shut her eyes and clenched her teeth, casting up a prayer to a God she'd never really believed in; _give me the strength to get through this without killing anyone _and turned around.

"Kevin." Her words were clipped and precise, her eyes cold as she gazed at her former boyfriend. She stared at his handsome, smooth features, his cruel, dead blue eyes and wondered, not for the first time, if she was a closet sadist, or just had really, really bad taste in men.

"I haven't seen you lately."

"Yeah. That wasn't accidental." She reminded him harshly, feeling disgusted, more with herself than with the man standing in front of her. He smirked. Once upon a time she had swooned for his blue eyes, his spiky blonde hair, his confidence. Before, of course, she'd figured out that he wore contacts, spent more time on his appearance than most supermodels, and wasn't confident at all; just too stupid to realize what an utter doucebag he was. Kevin Clearly; a B-list celebrity with a string of terrible movies to his name, and most famous for driving a car into some poor old women's living room in Malibu. He couldn't even claim to have been drunk, or on crack, or something interesting like that. He was just a bad driver.

He was also an abusive asshole who'd thrown Roulette down a flight of stairs when she'd broken up with him six months ago, fracturing her wrist and dislocating her shoulder. Being tossed down some steps hadn't been nearly as painful as the blow her ego had suffered when she realized what a complete tool she'd been wasting her time on for the past four months.

"You always were a charmer, Rue." He drawled, draping an arm around her and breathing heavily into her face. She cringed. Oh, and he was drunk. What a nice bonus for her.

"Kevin, get fucked." She wasn't aware that it was possible to be more direct then that.

"Rue, Rue, _R-ueee._" He sighed dramatically, and Rue was reminded of all the reasons why Kevin couldn't get parts in anything bigger than _Halloween 16: IN SPACE. "_This is _not _about you and me, baby. I've _moved on_." To prove his point he nodded across the room, where a half naked blonde girl was standing by the bar, pouting like she'd just stepped off the cover of _Playboy_, and looking ready to topple over from the weight of her disproportionately large breasts. Roulette felt queasy. She had _dated_ this guy. And she had been sober! What was the matter with her? "This is all buissness."

"Which means..what, exactly?" She prodded, ready for this conversation, and this evening to be over with as soon as possible. Buissness? What the hell was Kevin talking about now? She glanced over Kevin's shoulder and saw Nadir, having escaped from his throng of female fans, making his way towards her, his expression grave. She caught his gaze and rolled her eyes, motioning for him to wait for her by the doors. Ignoring the slurred nonsense Kevin was spouting, she grabbed her purse, fumbling for her cellphone.

Suddenly, the room errupted in cheers, and Roulette's head jerked up, eyes narrowing at the sight of the elegant figure swathed in jewels that had just taken the stage. "Fuck." She growled, more to herself than to Kevin. She glanced at him and was stunned to find her former boyfriend looking uncannily lucid, and also a little bit scared. "They're watching you." He hissed. "And they don't like competition."

"Ladies and gentlemen--" Began the host of the party, a small, reedy looking man in expensive glasses, who looked as if he was about to wet himself, "--we have had an unprecedented honor this evening--"

Roulette grabbed Kevin's arm. "They've always known who we were." She growled, irritated. If Kevin had interrupted her conversation with Erik for this, she really was going to kill him. Kevin looked like he was starting to regret ever approaching her and tried to inch away from her, but Roulett'es grip was like iron. "Look, I was just trying to give you a friendly warning, Rue--"

"A warning about _what_?"

"Just..that..you should keep your head down. Maybe lay low for awhile." Roulette released his arm and sighed. "Jesus Christ, Kevin, how do you know about any of this shit?"

Kevin looked mildly nauseous. "I'm in a little over my head." Roulette failed to summon up much sympathy, and chuckled. "Stupid ass. I might have known."

Kevin scowled, ego insulted and straightened his garish jacket. "If you don't want that masked freak you run with getting killed, I'd get out of here, Rue---OWW." He reeled backwards, clutching at his freshly broken nose. "You _bitch_! I have a fucking commercial to shoot tomarrow!"

The crowd had quieted, turning their backs on the stage, craning the necks excitedly in the hopes of catching a glimpse of the action. Roulette's gaze was murderous. "He is _not_ a freak." She spat, punching Kevin's shoulder. _Hard._ She heard a pop, and Kevin howled, falling to his knees. The cheering crowd had fallen silent, turning to face the direction of the commontion, and craning their heads for a better look. Roulette smirked in the direction of the stage, blew a kiss, and turned to stride non-chalantly towards the exit, silently praying that La Carlotta--reigning diva, crime boss, and conniving bitch of the year-- who was looking livid that her introduction had been up-staged, didn't shoot her in the back of the head.

_all the night you've dreamt away_

_- - - _

_i feel your smoky mist_

_up to the stratosphere_

The car ride home was a tense, silent affair, and Nadir rubbed morosely at his stomach. His ulcer, which hadn't been bothering him in the past month, was returning with a vengeance. Roulette's knack for attracting trouble would never cease to amaze him. Only she could have simultaneously pissed off Carlotta Gudicelle, shocked all of Amsterdam society, gotten tipped off that they were in trouble, and broken her ex-boyfriends nose in a five minute time span. Sighing, he glanced in the rearview mirror, where Erik and Roulette were sitting as far away from each other as humanly possible, arms crossed defiantly, glaring out the windows, resolutely refusing to look at one another.

"So...tell me again what Kevin said?" He ventured tentively. Roulette pursed her lips and jiggled her foot impatiently, anxious to get out of the car. "Just that 'they were watching', and that we should 'lay low' for a while. That was all he said."

"Was this before or after you dislocated his shoulder?" Erik questioned bitingly. Roulette rounded on him voice shaking with anger, "Are you actually _scolding _me? That--that--_fucker_ did the exact same thing to me, and he didn't even have a reason!" Erik arched an eyebrow. "And what was your reason? Or is that just how you repay anyone who tries to give you advice?" Nadir watched Roulette's expression closely as she struggled to respond.

Fatigue, regret, sorrow, anger; all these emotions played out in her eyes before she leaned back in the seat and shook her head. "You wouldn't understand." She told him quietly, twisting at the silver ring decorating her right hand.

"You're going to have to be more careful, Roulette. I know that the concept of subtlety is a foreign one to you, but if you don't want to draw even more attention to yourself than you already do, you're going to want to refrain from breaking former lovers bones in such a public setting from now on."

Erik's tone was deceptively mild, but Nadir could sense the genuine emotion lurking just below the surface of his gilded voice. Roulette shut her eyes. "I'm not a child, Erik."

"Obviously; children normally do not dress like prostitutes."

Nadir cringed and jerked the steering wheel, accelerating in the direction of the hotel. Hopefully, he could get them back before one of them killed the other. "Could you, for two seconds, treat me like an adult? Like an _equal_?" Roulette raged, voice arching dangerously.

"If you would like to be treated like an adult, _Molly_, then I suggest you start behaving like one." Erik responded patronizingly, and Roulette stared at him for a long moment, her eyes deep and unfathomable. When she spoke again, her tone was softer, she was forcing herself to be gentle.

"Erik, please--"

"Just stop, Roulette." He snapped, finally showing his agitation, just as Nadir pulled up to the front of the hotel. Roulette, who was now close to tears at being rebuked, lept from the car and ran inside. There was silence in the car for a moment, before Nadir looked up again at the rearview mirror.

"She's right, you know." Erik's head snapped up, mis-matched eyes blazing furiously. "About what, exactly?" He sneered and Nadir sighed again, removing the keys from the ignition and slowly getting out of the car. "She isn't eleven years old anymore, Erik. You've got to start looking at her like the woman she is."

Erik set his jaw and shook his head. "No."

Nadir paused, surprised. "No?" Erik stalked past him. "You have no idea what you're advising, daroga. It would be best if you simply kept your opinions to yourself from now on, I think." He snapped, his voice clipped and devoid of any emotion. Nadir watched his friends elegantly retreating form. "Allah," He breathed, "help us."

_did you notify my way_

_to hide a wonder why? _

_i've touched this place before_

_- - - _

_so we're in another time_

_now i can hear the sound_

By the time Nadir made it back up to the room, another explosive row was taking place. The personalities of Erik and Roulette were so different, and so equally dynamic, that they're fights were like the colission of two massive elements; and Nadir had unwittingly walked right into the eye of the storm.

An expensive looking vase collided with the mantlepiece, narrowly missing Erik, who looked distincly unruffled by the fact that a short girl in a cocktail dress was lobbing breakables at his head. "You're in luck, Nadir," He remarked casually, "Roulette was just about to make her grande finale, I believe. Perhaps she'll be lucky enough to actually hit something this time."

Roulette let out a scream of frustrated fury, stalked into the bathroom, and reappeared a few minutes later in jeans and a sweatshirt, her two thousand dollar dress left crumpled in a heap on the floor. She hurried past the two of them, her face red with anger and shiny with tears. "Where are you going now?" Nadir demanded helplessly.

She didn't respond, just grabbed her bag and fled out the door. Nadir rounded on Erik, who had been watching the proceedings with an amused expression in his eyes. "Are you happy now, Erik"

Erik laughed bitterly. "You, of all people, should know the answer to that question." He pushed past Nadir and picked up his coat, making his way towards the door unhurriedly. "Where are _you_ going now?" Nadir cried, ready to tear at his hair. Erik turned around and looked surprised.

"You don't honestly think I'd let her roam the streets of Amsterdam this late, do you? With her luck, she'll end up sold into some kind of white slavery practice." And then he was gone.

Nadir reached into his pocket and popped an anti-acid tablet, wincing as his ulcer flared angrily. He looked around the spacious, beautiful room, and realized he had it all to himself.

He wondered why this didn't make him feel any better.

_i've touched this place before_

-

**Delicate**: Jesus. Finally. It's done. I apologize for the delay, folks. This has been kind of hectic week.

**Erik**: At this point in time, I would like to point out the song Delicate has raped for this weeks chapter is called _Lebanease Blonde_ and is by a band called _The Thievery Corporation._ Which can be found on the _Garden State_ soundtrack.

**Delicate**: Which is, coincidentally, Erik's favorite movie.

**Erik**: I hate you.

**Delicate**: Shenannigans. You do not. Now, please, everyone, review. Comments, criticisms; anything you want to hit me with, I will take willingly.

**Erik**: She will to. She's desperate.

**Delicate**: Shut up, or no _America's Next Top Model_ for you.

**Erik**: You wouldn't DARE.

**Delicate**: It's been a long week. TRY me.


End file.
